Adventures in Narnia

February 10, 2021

Prompt: One time Lucy interacts with or remembers her mother.

A/N: Happy day like any other day! Yesterday was my birthday and I got, like, the BEST birthday present from BrokenKestral. Thank you for that wonderful story.

Now, for that little challenge I came up with. The answer is twelve. I'm twelve years old. Though nobody even tried to guess my age. Meh.

Reviews:

BrokenKestral: I was actually talking about the more technical definition. Geek; 2. A carnival performer whose act usually consists of biting the head off a live chicken or snake. I took that from Webster's II New College Dictionary. I feel like Eustace. I have nothing against your type of geek, it's the other geeks I don't like.

Ariel_of_Narnia: I'm glad you noticed. And poor, poor Harold. About the paragraph and gloomy issue, my grandma, sister, and best friend called me (not at the same time) and then my Mom wanted me to open my presents and then we had to have dinner so my already short writing time was cut even shorter. But thank you for pointing that out. I'll try to do better in the future.

Disclaimer: This twelve-year-old writer wannabe owns nada.

One week. It has been one week since Beruna. One week since we became Kings and Queens of this wonderful world. One week since I realized I was never going to see Mum ever again. Susan was like a mother, yes, but she wasn't Mum. She wasn't the same. I still remember my last birthday before the war started. It was my ballet recital. I remember it as though it was yesterday.

"Lucy, come on. We have to get going if we want to make it to the station on time," said Helen. "You don't want to be late, do you?"

"Coming, Mummy!" responded Lucy.

Edmund made a face and asked, "Why do I have to go? I'm not going to be in it."

"Because this is your sister's show and she has been practicing a lot for it. So you are going to put on a smile and encourage her, do you understand me?" she asked.

"Yes, Mum," said Edmund grouchily.

"Good. Now where's Susan? Susan! Come here! We best be off! We don't want to be late!" Helen hollered.

"Almost done, Mum!" replied Susan.

Mr. Pevensie walked in from the kitchen and kissed Helen on the cheek. "Why don't you take Lucy and I'll take the others. We can meet in the lobby," he tells her.

"Alright," Helen agrees, reluctantly. "Be careful. We'll see you in a few minutes. Lucy, come on. We'll meet them there."

Lucy followed her mother out the door of their quaint home.

They were walking down the street to the train station when they passed a vendor on the street that was selling the most stunning handkerchiefs. One of them was all white with a faint blue snowflake design. Another was red with a golden lion stitched on it. Yet another was navy blue with orange lettering that said "A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads only lives one. -George R.R. Martin". But Lucy's favourite was a little white one with a flowery design in one corner and a pink border. Lucy thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Mummy?" she asked. "That handkerchief, may I get it?"

"Not now, Lucy. We have to get to your recital," she replied.

"Please, Mummy? Please, please, please?" Lucy begged her mother.

Helen sighed. "We'll see. Which one is it?" Helen relented.

"The white one with flowers."

The loving mother took a close look at it and glanced at the price tag. She stood, staring agape at the price.

The young girl was a bit too short to read the price tag, thus she could not see how big of a dent it would have put in their wallet. It was a fairly expensive handkerchief, nearly ten pounds! Of course, every handkerchief was hand sewn by the vendor and he used only the best cloth. They were very good quality.

"No, dear. I'm afraid not," said Helen.

The six year old looked down, disappointed. "Okay, Mummy."

They made their way down the street and to the train station and then off to the ballet recital.

A few months later, on Christmas Day, when Lucy rushed down the stairs to open her first present she saw, hanging from the tree, a little white handkerchief with a flowery design in one corner and a pink border. And then, in the corner opposite the flower embroidery, were two little letters in a light magenta. "L" and "P". Lucy Pevensie. Queen Lucy. Lucy.

"Lucy! Wake up!" Edmund.

"Oh! Edmund, you scared me. I was lost in thought."

"Where were you?" he asks.

"Memories," I reply.

"Spare Oom?"

"Mum."

"Ah. You miss her." I nod, though I know it wasn't a question. "So do I."

"Will it ever go away?" I ask him. "The pain, I mean."

"No. It never fully goes away, though it does fade. I'm sure we'll survive."

A moment of silence.

"Ed, promise you'll never leave," I demand, hugging him.

"I promise, Lu."

Fin.

A/N: I think this is one of my better fics. As always, please provide constructive criticism so that I can become a better writer.

Yours truly,

reider52